


Age Does Matter

by SentientMist (formallyintroduced)



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-22
Updated: 2011-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 00:12:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formallyintroduced/pseuds/SentientMist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were like this, nothing else mattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Age Does Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Sanctuary Porn Battle](http://community.livejournal.com/sfa_pornbattle/6282.html?page=3&view=67722#comments). Prompt = "ageing"

She was sitting on their bed, gaze fixed on her hands twisting anxiously in her lap. "I'm not sure I can do this anymore."

"Why? Why the problem now? Where is this coming from?"

"I'm sorry, Will. I never intended to hurt you." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she refused to look at him.

"I'm not upset." He paused, fingers combing restlessly through his hair. "Actually, that's a lie, but I'm not mad. I just, I want to understand."

Finally, she looked up, meeting his eye, "You're aging, Will. You're trying to hide it, but I can see it. You feel the difference as clearly as I do. If I lose you, Will, I-" She couldn't finish the thought, eyes dropping back to her lap.

"We still have time, Helen. Years," he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"It's not enough, Will." After a moment, she added, almost to herself, "Not nearly enough."

"There are solutions to that," he murmured bitterly. It was a familiar argument, one she always put an end to.

"No," she countered firmly. "We've had this discussion, Will. I'm not letting that happen. There are absolutely _no_ guarantees, and I will not see you become someone you're not."

"You don't know that I would."

"The answer is no. This isn't up for debate, Will."

"Well, maybe it should be," he muttered, standing and turning to leave.

He had never left before, no matter how heated their debates had gotten. His willingness to do so now cut like a knife, shattering her already aching heart. "Will?"

"I can't do _this_ anymore."

"What?" Now, she was the one at a loss, startled, wide eyes locking on his face.

" _This_ , Helen. I love you, I want you, and you're pushing me away. I care about you too much to watch you do this."

"No. Come back to bed."

He laughed dryly, "So, you don't want us to have a relationship, but we can still fuck?"

Her mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. What had she done? This was not her, Will, the man she knew and loved. How had she destroyed beautiful, sweet Will? When had he become so bitter? More alarmingly, how had she failed to notice it until this moment?

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tiredly sinking down next to her, "I'm sorry."

"I guess they were wrong," she managed, voice thick with unshed tears.

"About what?" he asked quietly.

"Age does matter."

"Yeah, I guess it does, but it doesn't have to."

He drew her into a slow kiss, tongue teasing her lips until she relented, fingers fisting in his shirt as she pulled him closer.

"It doesn't have to," he repeated, pulling back, shifting so his forehead rested against hers, finding her hand and intertwining their fingers.

When he kissed her again, she believed him. It didn't have to matter. Nothing mattered when they were like this. When he was pushing her down on the bed, peeling off her clothes, hands roaming every inch of visible skin, every mark, every blemish, he knew them all. He knew _her_. Better than anyone she had ever known, even John had not known her body so well. When they were like this, she knew she loved him.

His tongue traced a small scar, just below her breast and she felt the first tears break free of her composure, sliding warmly down her cheeks. He brushed them away softly with the pad of his thumb as he claimed her lips again, his other hand moving lower. They were both silent until she arched under him, his name no more than a breathless whisper slipping from her lips.

He held her tightly in the aftermath, dropping light kisses into her hair as she clung to him, face pressed to his chest as salty tears continued to fall. This was why she needed to end this before she could no longer walk away.

"Shh. I'm sorry."

A sob escaped, his quiet sincerity cutting deeply. It was already too late.

"Will." It was choked, half-muffled by his chest.

"Yeah?"

"I want you." She shifted, looking up at him. "I want us."

"I don't plan on going anywhere, sweetheart," he whispered.

"You will." She found his hand, their fingers tangling in her lap. "But you don't have to."

His brow furrowed in confusion as he shook his head. "I'm not sure I know what you're trying to tell me."

"I was wrong." She rested her temple against his chest, free hand tracing the lines of his arm. "I don't want to slowly lose you, watching while you slip away from me a little more every day. I want to be able to wake up to you in the morning without the certainty that you won't be mine for much longer, and I want to fall asleep in your arms without wondering how many more years you'll be able to hold me. I cant do this, Will. Not with you."

"Helen."

She placed a finger over his lips, stalling any further interruption. "I love you, Will. I'm _in_ love with you. Maybe you're worth the risk."

The peace he felt in his victory overwhelmed him, and he tugged her closer.

"I love you, Helen Magnus, and I fully intend to spend the rest of my life at your side."

"I only hope it's a long one," she forced out with a shaky breath.

He brushed his lips across her forehead, tucking her head under his chin. "We better hold on tight. It's going to be a hell of a ride."


End file.
